


Colors

by breakfastoversugar



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, so trina and mendel soulmates, there is such a low amount of trina and mendel content, theres almost no soulmate stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakfastoversugar/pseuds/breakfastoversugar
Summary: Even if Trina wasn’t his soulmate, being with her would make him so happy. Maybe he should take the chance. As a psychiatrist, he had become disillusioned with the ideal of soulmates always being perfect. He knows better. He has horror stories. So even if he never finds his soulmate, Trina would be worth it. Wonderful, lovely, brave, unashamed Trina. Lonely, possibly diseased, scared, insecure Trina. The Trina of one hundred different contradictions that owns Mendel’s heart completely.
Relationships: Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> trina and mendel deserve so much more content i love those heteros !!! 
> 
> i thought of this like two days ago while writing something else and my head would not stop screaming at me to write this

Soulmates were always something that alluded Mendel Weisenbachfeld. He wished to be loved unconditionally like that, but he never thought of it as realistic. For a large chunk of his life, he thought he would just never see colors. Actually, he thought he was being lied to for a while. When he was in middle school, he would speak of soulmates as if they were a concept his parents made up to trick him into being a good kid. Like the tooth fairy. It wasn’t until later on in life that he would realize that soulmates actually were around. Not only around, but his peers were all actively finding their soulmates and happiness. Mendel feels like his life has stalled out and failed him. He feels like maybe fate forgot him.

But that doesn’t really bother him; Mendel finds them unnecessary. He doesn’t understand the hype, the hubbub. He strikes it as something akin to religion. A scam. Don’t get Mendel wrong, he’s a Jewish man and _very proud_ to be - it’s his _whole culture,_ for God’s sake. He is still a good Jewish man who goes to Temple and reads his Torah, but his personal relationship with religion and soulmates were something that was less than stellar. 

Colors were overrated anyways. Mendel prefers warm sweaters with funky patterns than any color he could ever see.

A patient of his agreed with him. For many years, this patient agreed with him that soulmates were dumb and overrated. He was adamant that he didn’t need a soulmate to start a family. He insisted for a long time that he was happy with his family despite his wife not being his soulmate. Mendel doesn’t tell him, when he was complaining and yelling and crying, that his job as a psychiatrist did not overlap with the job of a therapist. Mendel was technically, completely professionally discombobulated. Mendel was going to tell him but on the day he was about to, the patient, Marvin, broke down sobbing in his office. That was the day he came out as gay. That was the day Marvin confessed that he _did_ believe in soulmates, so much so that he was terrified to touch men. Terrified of what that would mean for him if his world exploded into blues and reds and greens and it was _a man._ Mendel, with a tight smile and a feeling of deep pity for Marvin and his whole family, decided he could play the therapist role for a little while longer.

“Mendel,” Marvin says one day, fingertips pressed together right underneath his mouth. His elbows were on his knees and he was staring forward contemplatively, “What should I do if I found him?”

Mendel leans back in his chair. He had already put in a refill for Marvin’s prescriptions of lithium, lamictal, and xanax. This should have been a routine procedure that shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes if everything was going alright with his medications. But Marvin was opening up again, slowly peeling off layers as he spoke to him as if they were old friends. “I don’t know, Mr. Marvin,” Mendel hums good-naturedly, “Whatever you think is best for you and your family.”

Marvin tenses and sighs. He drops his arms dramatically between his knees. “What’s best for my family…” He trails off, his bright, tired eyes dropping to Mendel’s carpet with a funny, funky design. “I should be doing what's best for my family. I need to stop daydreaming about finding my soulmate.”

“You do have a son and a wife,” Mendel confirms, drawing a scribble on his notepad. He learned early on that Marvin feels better when he fakes taking notes. “How are they, by the way?” 

Marvin shrugs. “I have no idea. They barely ever talk to me. I think Jason might hate me, I don’t know why. There’s just this … huge divide between us. It feels like the Grand Canyon.” He pushes his hands through his curls and drags them down his face.

“And Trina?”

“Trina?” Marvin repeats. He seemed taken aback for a moment because his eyes got wider and his posture got a little straighter. “Oh, Trina.” He clears his throat, looking a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. I think she resents me. For just … her general life. I got her pregnant and then we got married and I’m not even her soulmate.” He looks out the window like he’s searching for answers among the swirling leaves of trees that were shaking because of a soon-to-be storm. “She always seemed like the kind of woman who would want a soulmate. But she’s just so cold. Every touch is loveless and careless. Trina’s closed herself off to me completely.”

“I never got the impression that she was a cold woman before,” Mendel says and shifts in his seat, “I always got the feeling that she was warm and a good mother.”

Marvin laughs, a bitter noise that Mendel bafflingly detests, “She’s a good mother, but _warm?_ No.”

And that didn’t sit right with Mendel. He frowns. Turning to his clock he takes a deep breath in through his nose and stands. “That’s all the time we have today, Mr. Marvin!” He says, faux cheerily. “I will see you soon. Remember to get that blood test done,” He pats Marvin’s shoulder in a gesture of goodwill, but Marvin startles away from the contact. Mendel ignores. “If you’re on too much lithium, it could make you sick!”

Truth be told, physical contact wasn’t something Mendel did frequently. It surprised himself when he clasped Marvin on the shoulder. Maybe, unconsciously, he was also avoiding the thought of finding his soulmate. It would change his whole life. His life now was quiet. He’d get home to his apartment, order some take out, drink some tea, sleep, repeat. Mendel’s life centered around his work, and that was fine. He was fine with that. He was. 

Or he thought he was. Until she walked into his life.

Trina. Marvin’s wife. After Marvin found his own soulmate, he ended up (eventually) leaving his wife. To cope with this, she started seeing Mendel. She was so glorious. She is so beautiful and warm. She is so, so lovely. A little damaged, but nothing that some medications and some (underqualified) therapy couldn’t help. Still, she was lovely. Mendel is half convinced he fell in love with her at first sight. But he couldn’t have, because stuff like love at first sight doesn’t exist. And Mendel resigned himself to not having a soulmate.

The first time Trina walks into Mendel’s office, she is nervous. Fretting and wiping her hands on her cardigan or long, flowy pants several times. Anxiety, Mendel mentally checks and grins at her. She introduces herself and holds out her hand to shake. It looks so soft and nice and warm and Mendel dodges it. He dodges it and pretends it isn’t as startling as it was to him.

“Sit down, my dear,” Mendel motions to a seat rather than touch her, “I’ve heard you have a problem! Your problems are my top priority, so feel free to just let it all go and relax.” He becomes a ray of sunshine. Something bright and a way to see through the muddled water that she was currently wading through. 

Trina looks at him, mouth slightly open, lips turned down, eyebrows furrowed, and begins. “Love isn’t sex. Marvin told me that. You know Marvin, don’t you? You are Doctor Mendel Weisenbachfeld, aren’t you?” Mendel nods. She bunches her hands in her pants and twists, “He told me to tell you everything. All of my troubles and problems and- Oh.” She cuts herself off abruptly, searching Mendel’s eyes for something, “Do you only treat queers?”

Mendel forces out a nervous chuckle and dispels the slur from his mind. “No,” He says pointedly, hopefully calm. “I’m here for you, Trina. I’m here to be your rock. And to give you medicine. But also, to be your rock!”

Trina laughs, desperate and on the verge of hysterical, “He told me I was everything he wanted when we got married. He told me it didn’t _matter_ that we weren’t soulmates. But then- But then…” Her breath catches in her throat as her eyes glaze over. Mendel finds himself wishing he knew the color, “I felt him slipping away. I felt him die in my arms. His charms were not for me. I knew he was cheating on me, I mean, hell he even gave me an STD, but…” She hangs her head. Her shoulders shake. She curls inward, putting her face in her hands and letting out a broken noise from the back of her throat. Mendel pushes some tissues her way and just listens. “I’ve been having … bad thoughts, doctor.”

“Bad?” Mendel prompts, suddenly much more concerned. Hopefully it wasn’t that bad, hopefully she wasn’t a danger to herself or to, good lord, her son.

“I’ve been thinking about hurting myself.” She admits quietly. “I linger when I look at knives. I’ve seen scalpels and thought about how easy it would be to just…” Trina looks at him, searches his soul with merely her eyes. “Please help me, doctor.”

Mendel lets out a long breath through his nose, “Do not ever slit your wrists.” And then he runs through the procedure of what she should do if she is suicidal and develops a plan. 

And she’s fractured. And she’s fragile. And she might be diseased. And she’s insecure. But so is Mendel, and he finds her so, so lovely.

Sessions continue on. Some days Trina is better than others. Some days she is worse. It’s still improvement. Mendel reminds her on the bad days that improvement is not linear. Improvement sometimes looks like a roller coaster, but like a really intense roller coaster with loops that sometimes goes backwards or leaves you to dangle. On those days she throws her head back and laughs - a genuine one - or tucks hair behind her ear and sparkles. 

Mendel wants to hold her. Even if they weren’t soulmates, just being able to hold a woman as amazing as Trina would be a dream. He imagines it, grabbing her hand to shake one day and his world becoming colored with azure and turquoise and chartreuse and other colors he didn’t really grasp that sound pretentious. He wants to be able to tell what color her hair is. It’s dark, he knows that, but he doesn’t know what color it is. Maybe it was red! Or brown! Or purple! Mendel had no concept of any color.

Sometimes, when Trina is talking about her problems, he catches himself thinking about it. He’s listening and he isn’t going to do anything stupid, but he’s thinking about Trina. Despite her being right in front of him.

“I don’t know, doctor. Maybe it’s because of Marvin, but I don’t feel like soulmates are important to be happy. You don’t have to be with your soulmate to love someone, you know?” Trina says quietly. She lets a sigh pass through her pretty lips. The topic jolts Mendel back into listening. “God knows,” She reaches up and touches the Star of David necklace that she was always wearing, “That I loved Marvin without him being my soulmate.”

Mendel wishes he was following the conversation. He smiles, sweet, and shrugs, “You shouldn’t be ashamed to love, Trina. Whether that person is your soulmate or not.”

And Trina looks at him and smiles. Mendel thinks that she could will flowers to bloom with a smile like that. “I’m not,” She says honestly, “I’m not ashamed. I’m proud to have loved Marvin, even if it only ended in disaster.”

And she’s brave. And she’s so unabashed. And she might still be diseased. And she wants a better future for herself, and Mendel wants that for her, too. And she is so, so, so lovely.

It’s unprofessional, how much he likes Trina. It’s probably crossed a line. Sometimes he brings her up during Marvin’s treatment. It’s unprofessional, how much he thinks of Trina. In Mendel’s defense, Trina was a wonderful woman. She was a beautiful woman. She was so sweet and gentle and warm. His parents would love that she was a good Jewish woman and devoted mother.

Maybe Mendel’s getting a little ahead of himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about how his parents would react to her should they ever meet. Trina is his patient, not his girlfriend or his soulmate.

While he was in the middle of daydreaming, a call rings through his home. He snaps up, darting out of bed and over to his landline. As soon as he picks up, he hears a voice that he knows so well.

“Doctor Mendel, please. Doctor Mendel, in regards to what Marvin has done. Or, maybe hasn’t done would be better,” She stops and lets out a frustrated noise. “You must exorcise a devil!” She cried out, “Because it inhabits Marvin’s son.”

“Oh, uh,” Mendel stuttered, trying to find the right words to say.

“Please come to our house. You must speak to Jason. He’s sick in the head, doctor! Others think he’s _so wonderful,_ but he’s positively wild! He acts like,” She stops. Mendel can hear her pacing around, the frantic footsteps echoing across the floor and into the receiver, “He acts just like Marvin! I can make dinner for us all. But you must help us, please. We need you. If not, I’ve got some rope right here, and they’ll find Trina hanging from a chandelier!” She was on the verge of hysterics, her voice was shrill and tight and Mendel could only imagine what her face looks like.

And well, Mendel couldn’t say no, right? She was so distressed, he couldn’t not help her. So that’s how he found himself, shaking the hand of her son who looked just as awkward as Mendel himself.

“Hello, welcome,” The child, Jason, says and shifts his weight. Their handshake was going on for a bit too long but neither or them seemed to know when to break it, “Thank you for coming. Would you like some food?” Well, he certainly seemed blunt.

“Jason, right?” Mendel asks, finally breaking the handshake. He doesn’t wait for a response before continuing, “I’m here so we can talk! I’ve heard from your parents that you need some therapy.” Mendel did not mention that he was a psychiatrist. Therapist and psychiatrist are two very different professions that no one in this family seemed to understand. He just smiles a goofy little smile and nods at the kid.

“Oh, Doctor Mendel!” Trina calls as she steps into the room. In her oven-mitt clad hands she holds a pan of food. “I’ll set the food on the table and then we can begin!” She moves into a different room. Jason follows her, looking very much like a downtrodden child. Mendel follows after Jason because he would feel awkward just standing there.

Trina looks at him and smiles. The edges of her eyes crinkle. She extends her hand for him to shake it, but Mendel just nervously wipes his hands on his pants. “What a lovely table!” He says, trying to not call attention to his actions. Jason raises an eyebrow at him, but Trina plays along.

“It’s such a romantic table,” She chirps, “There is a lot of space to spread out and eat at your leisure.” And then she looks to Mendel. They lock eyes for a moment, and Mendel feels his world spin out of control. Jason walks in between them and plops himself in a chair with a heavy sigh. It snaps them both out of their stupors as they turn to him. 

Mendel laughs and nudges Jason a little, “You look pretty miserable.”

“Uninspired.”

“We’re tired,” Trina says for her son in a futile effort to disguise his curt attitude. And Mendel understands. So he helps the best he can. If that includes coming over very often. So often Marvin and his lover Whizzer take notice. So often that Trina, Marvin, and Jason will occasionally gather at the table to listen to his “therapy”. Which, again, Mendel wasn’t really qualified for. Nevertheless, he tells everyone who will listen that they should feel alright for the rest of their lives.

But then, on one day, Jason reaches out before he could leave and wraps his fingers around Mendel’s wrist. “Mr. Mendel,” He murmurs, looking strangely embarrassed, “Can I talk to you about one more thing before you go?”

Mendel grins at him. Turning to face Jason again, he nods eagerly. “Of course buddy,” He extends his arms out to his side, “You can talk to me about anything.”

Jason hops up on the table and pats a spot next to him. Mendel hesitantly also sits on the table, putting his hands in his lap and fiddling his thumbs together. It feels like a total role reversal, and Mendel couldn't help but feel anxiety. 

“Mr. Mendel, regarding your intentions to my mother,” Mendel moves to get up and get out as quick as possible. Jason grabs his hand and drags him back down. “She’s ready you know. To completely move on. She’s …” He pauses for a moment, the wheels in his little mind turning, “Her hand is ready. It only needs a ring.”

And there is _a lot_ to unpack there. Because he hadn’t even taken Trina on a date, or hell, _touched her_ at all. Despite that, Jason is asking him to propose. Don’t get him wrong, Mendel would love to be able to marry a wonderful woman like Trina. And- and-. It’s just not possible!

Mendel laughs. Why is he laughing? What does he do? What does he say? How does he answer? “Love isn’t free,” He says quickly, “Love isn’t blind - what do i see?”

“Stop!” Jason nearly shouts, sticking out his arm and waving his hands in the psychiatrist’s face. Mendel vaguely registers that Jason is mimicking something he does to seem more professional. “Look around, Mr. Mendel! There’s a lot of nice furniture.” He tried with a smile on his face. At no change in the frantic reaction of the older man, he tried something else. “She could bring you dinner - or lunch! She could wash you laundry … like your socks or something.” Jason looked at the him before gripping onto the table tightly, “God, Mr. Mendel! What do you tell me to do all the time?”

“Feel alright for the rest of your life?”

“Would being with my mother make you feel alright for the rest of your life?”

Mendel opened his mouth, but then closed it again. It would. Even if Trina wasn’t his soulmate, being with her would make him so happy. Maybe he should take the chance. As a psychiatrist, he had become disillusioned with the ideal of soulmates always being perfect. He knows better. He has horror stories. So even if he never finds his soulmate, Trina would be worth it. Wonderful, lovely, brave, unashamed Trina. Lonely, possibly diseased, scared, insecure Trina. The Trina of one hundred different contradictions that owns Mendel’s heart completely.

Before he has a chance to answer, Jason drags him into another room. In the other room, Marvin is talking amicably to Trina and Whizzer. Whizzer looks bored. Trina smiles tightly at the two men. Jason stands in the middle of the room and clears his throat. “This is how you make a marriage proposal.”

All four adults stand in a stunned silence. Marvin and Whizzer glance at each other before looking back at Jason. 

Mendel breathes in, steels himself, and faces Trina. “I love you, dear.” She gasps, quiet. Marvin gasps, louder. “I think you’re just so … swell. I never let you near me close enough to tell … if we’re … you know.” He clears his throat uncomfortably. He gestures to her, “I crave your wrist. I praise your thigh. There is no other guy that could love you like I could.” He gives a smile, hopefully goofy enough to seem charming. “You know, Trina, sometimes lovers are crazy. Sometimes they, uh, kill each other. Just like a biblical brother did to his … biblical brother,” Oh no, this was going downhill fast, “Back in … biblical times.”

“Biblical times?”

“Biblical times?”

“Oh, yeah, biblical times!” He smiles at everyone in the room. Whizzer snickers behind his hand and turns away completely from the scene. “I love your eyes. I’d love to know the color-”

“Brown.” Marvin interrupts obnoxiously.

Mendel ignores him. “I love your face. I want to have you by my side if I get sick or detained.” Mendel should stop while he’s ahead. He knows he should stop talking. He knows. But he just can’t seem to stop talking. Trina moved her hand to touch her hair. Mendel holds out his hands in front of himself, “Don’t touch your hair, you’re perfect!” He yells out. Her expression shifts to a startled one and he winces, “Don’t start to cry. Trina, there is no one that could love you like I could. Not even a giant man. I am not a giant man-”

“Good,” She interrupts him, finally allowing him to shut his mouth and stop babbling nearly incoherently. “Good, that’s …” She smiles, “That’s good.” Trina’s smile faltered, just a little. She glanced away for a few seconds. Those were the most tense moments of Mendel’s life. He wrings his hands together and awaits the rejection he should have known would be coming. “Will you close your eyes? I’ll close mine too.” She eventually settles on.

Mendel does it, no question. He trusts Trina, he loves Trina. He would follow her to the end of the Earth if she asked. There was a gentle, unsure pressure on his lips. Trina is kissing him. Trina is kissing him! A slow, unsure hand rests on Mendel’s cheek. It is so tender, Mendel feels like he could cry. He is not a man of restraint but this moment is one he couldn’t bring it in himself to ruin. Slowly, Trina pulls back. Mendel can’t find it in himself to open his eyes at first, he just waits in the silence.

“Oh,” Trina says on an exhale. “Oh my god.” There is a hand in his, suddenly, “Mendel,” She urges, “Open your eyes.”

And he does. And it is so wonderful. Trina stands before him now, bathed in shades he has never seen before. The colors of red, brown, yellow, blue, green all appear before him in a way that they had never done before. His breath catches in his throat. As he looks around, more colors pop and catch his eye. It’s nothing like he had ever seen before. Color is everywhere. Mendel doesn’t know how he ever thought this was overrated. His shades of gray seem so dull now. And it was all thanks to Trina and - _Oh, Trina._ Trina’s eyes and hair are brown. She is wearing yellow and red. Mendel thought there wasn’t a way she could ever look more beautiful, but he was so wrong. He was so, so wrong. Like this, she looked unbelievable. The colors completely enveloping her made her look so warm, and soft, and lovely. He would stare at her all day if he could. If Trina allowed him, Mendel would.

With a new vibrant life full of colors and a future wife who he adores, he feels so much stronger. Come hell or high water, Mendel Weisenbachfeld feels prepared. Come Marvin and his fury, Mendel Weisenbachfeld feels prepared. Today is the start of the rest of his life. He will feel alright as long as Trina - his soulmate - is by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> i love mendel so much. he is just so funky. he doesnt care about fashion now that he can see colors, he still wears fun patterned warm sweaters. 
> 
> if you have the time, please continue to do whatever you can for the black lives matter movement. people are still out there fighting for justice. breoanna taylor has stopped trending. none of her murders have been arrested, let alone convicted. the fight is still not over. please remain alert and outraged.


End file.
